Mount Olympus
by Ael L. Bolt
Summary: A follow-up to "Plato's Stepchildren." Just exactly how DID Kirk and Spock lose their psychic powers? (unfinished, deadfic - see 7/31/03 final update for details)
1. Prologue & Chapter One

Prologue  
"Captain's Log, StarDate 5784.9. Mister Spock, Doctor McCoy, and myself have beamed up from Platonius with a passenger, Alexander. This up-until-now unlucky Platonian will be traveling with us to a world of his choice. On Platonius, Alexander was badly treated by the other Platonians because of his lack of psycho-kinetic powers. My friends and I were also mistreated for the same reason, until Doctor McCoy injected a concentration of kironide into my blood, as well as Spock's blood. After that, we were able to...convince...the Platonian leader, Parmen, to release us and the Enterprise.  
  
Doctor McCoy tells us that the kironide he injected into us should break down and disappear, along with the psycho-kinetic power, in a few hours. However, he does not know for sure and can only estimate. I am not sure why, but that makes me uneasy..."  
  
Far on the other side of his quarters, Kirk waved a hand and the Log Recorder obediently switched off. Kirk stared across his darkened cabin, wondering when the power would leave him. It was still at the same strength as when he defeated Parmen. If McCoy was right, it should be gone by the time alpha shift began. If he was wrong...  
  
Kirk didn't even want to think about that. He reclined on his bed and listened to the soft humming of the deck plates, and slipped into sleep.  
  
  
Chapter One  
Kirk awoke with a start, and promptly fell off the bed. There was a brief moment of disorientation, then he realized where he was. From across the room, his desk comm unit was beeping; that was what had woke him up.  
  
Grumbling to himself, he carefully untangled himself from the sheets and staggered over to the desk, running a hand through his mussed hair. He hit the 'receive' switch. "Kirk here."  
  
"Well Jim, are you planning on sleeping all day?" McCoy's southern drawl came through the speaker.  
  
Kirk glanced at the chronometer, just then noticing that it was 0945. "Damn. Sorry Bones, I guess I slept in. Shoot, I'm late for my shift..."  
  
"Don't bother going up there," McCoy said. "I've taken both you and Spock off-duty until we get this kironide deal straightened out."  
  
"Straightened out?"  
  
"Well, Spock actually came down here complaining about a headache earlier. And if *he* has a headache, I'm willing to bet *you* do as well."  
  
"Actually, I don't." Kirk was suddenly curious; had his powers finally left him? He concentrated on a padd, and was partially dismayed to see it obediently hover in midair. Sighing, he reached out and grabbed it, then set it down on the desk. "But those psycho-kinetic powers aren't gone yet."  
  
"That's another thing I was worried about. Has your power decreased at all?"  
  
"Not that I can tell."  
  
McCoy was silent for a moment. "That's not good." He sounded fairly worried. "Would you mind coming down to Sickbay? I'd like to run some tests on you and see how long before you're back to normal."  
  
Kirk automatically shied away from the idea. He hated Sickbay. For him, it represented loss of control, inability to command, and pain. But after he reconsidered... "Sure. I'll be down there in about thirty minutes. Kirk out." He snapped off the comm unit and stood up, stretching a little to relieve tension in his muscles.  
  
As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror. An odd flash made him look again, and what he saw made him stop in his tracks. Was there a slight glow to his eyes? Were they a slightly different color than before?  
  
Kirk stared at his reflection for a moment longer, then shrugged it off. **Those powers must be affecting me more than I realized,** he said to himself. **But I could have sworn that for a moment, I looked just like...**  
  
The painful memory came up without warning, and he stopped that train of thought. **No need to think about HIM again, James. He's been dead and buried for three years.**  
  
But as he psychically called a uniform shirt to his hand, he couldn't help but wonder...  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
McCoy was just finishing checking over Spock, who was still suffering from a headache, when Kirk came into Sickbay. "Well Spock, I guess the only thing you can do is go to your quarters and wait for the kironide to break down. There's nothing I can do for your headache, and I can't filter the kironide out of your blood."  
  
"Thank you, Doctor McCoy," Spock said as he stood. He turned and walked out the door, wincing a little.  
  
Kirk turned a puzzled gaze on McCoy. "Why is he in pain and I'm not?"  
  
"It's only a theory, but I think it's because Spock is usually a touch-telepath, and contact with too many minds at once is painful to Vulcans," McCoy said. "With the kironide boost, he could be feeling the emotions of every person on the ship, and it's too much for his mental disciplines to handle. And as for you..." McCoy shrugged. "Maybe you're just not a telepath, even with the kironide."  
  
"Maybe," Kirk said, slightly skeptical.  
  
McCoy began scanning him with a medical tricorder, and neither man spoke for several moments. A few minutes later, McCoy stared at the readout in disbelief. "That can't be right..."  
  
"Bones?"  
  
"The concentration of kironide in your blood hasn't decreased at all. It should have been mostly gone by now..." McCoy frowned at the scanner. "According to this, the concentration has actually *increased*."  
  
"What?" Stunned, Kirk looked at the readout. Sure enough, there was a marked increase in kironide concentration in his bloodstream. "That's impossible..."  
  
"Obviously not," McCoy said. "The evidence is right there. Your power should be gone, but it's not."  
  
"Bones...when will this *go away*? I don't like having this power!" McCoy had never seen him so agitated. He stared in incomprehension as Kirk paced the room, nearby objects trembling in the psycho-kinetic waves as he passed by. "Dammit, I don't like it. It reminds me too much of-" He broke off suddenly, and shut his eyes. "No, no, I'm *not* going to bring that up again," McCoy heard him muttering to himself. "That was years ago...it makes no difference..."  
  
"Jim?" McCoy asked softly. "Are you okay?"  
  
Kirk whirled around and started to say yes, but then he stopped. "No," he said after a moment's thought. "No, I'm *not* okay, and I won't be until this kironide power wears off. Bones...*how long*?"  
  
"I can't be sure until I run some more tests on you," McCoy said, and Kirk flinched. "Come on, it's not *that* bad and you know it. The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you can leave."  
  
Kirk considered for a moment, then sighed in resignation and followed McCoy into the examination room.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
Kirk stared up at the gray ceiling of Sickbay as McCoy scanned him, and he felt an uncomfortable tingle in his right arm. As McCoy moved the scanner, so did the sensation.  
  
Kirk thought about that for a minute, wondering what was causing it. As the scanner moved upward, it began to get more and more uncomfortable. He wondered if he should tell McCoy.  
  
His dilemma was solved when McCoy moved the scanner over Kirk's head. The instant the discomfort reached the pain threshold, Kirk reflexively sent out a psychic wave, which ripped the scanner from McCoy's hand and turned it to powder against the opposite wall.  
  
Realizing what he'd done, Kirk bolted upright in shock.  
  
McCoy looked at the mangled scanner, then slowly turned to look at Kirk. "I take it that wasn't planned?" Kirk shook his head wordlessly. "Well, I guess I'll have to go get another scanner."  
  
Kirk shook himself out of his temporary shock. "No, it was my fault. I'll do it." He moved his gaze to the equipment cabinet. A door opened, and a scanner floated out and placed itself in McCoy's hand.  
  
McCoy looked at the scanner, then back at Kirk. "You wanna do this yourself?" he asked, only half-sarcastic.  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Then you psycho-kinetic people'd better stop doin' my job for me. Getting on my nerves..."  
  
Two more broken scanners later, McCoy decided to call it quits on getting a readout with one of those. He examined the overhead vital signs indicator, and everything was perfectly normal except for an abnormal concentration of kironide in Kirk's bloodstream.  
  
"As far as I can tell without a scanner," McCoy said, looking purposefully at the twisted metal fragments, "you're in perfect condition. If it weren't for that increased amount of kironide in your blood, I would say you'd actually been listening to me and taking care of yourself for once."  
  
A eyebrow shot up at that. "Well, *thanks*."  
  
McCoy ignored the jibe. "The concentration of kironide in your bloodstream is nearly double of what I put into you. It's increasing exponentially, almost like - Jim? Jim?"  
  
Kirk had gone white, and he no longer seemed to hear McCoy. "Oh my-"  
  
"Jim!" McCoy had him by the shoulders, and a few seconds later Kirk's eyes focused on his friend. He was still horribly pale, and his breathing was rapid.  
  
"Did you say...exponentially? It's increasing exponentially?"  
  
McCoy was confused. "Yes, I did."  
  
Kirk was staring off into empty space again, and McCoy could barely hear what he was saying. "It's like having a penny and doubling it every day...within a few months, you'll be a millionaire."  
  
"Jim!" McCoy shook him by the shoulders. "Come on Jim, snap out of it!"  
  
And Kirk did. One minute he was staring blankly, the next he was forcefully demanding, "Bones! What color are my eyes?"  
  
McCoy blinked in confusion, and when he did not immediately reply, Kirk tightened his grip. "Bones, answer me! What color are my eyes?"  
  
"They're the same color they've always been, Jim. Hazel." Kirk finally relaxed his grip on McCoy's arms, and the doctor winced as new bruises made themselves known.  
  
"Then there's still time," Kirk murmured to himself, barely loud enough for McCoy to hear. He turned his oddly shaken gaze back to McCoy. "Bones...you'll have to kill me. Now, before my power gets any greater."  
  
"WHAT?!" McCoy could not believe his ears. "Jim, what are you saying? Kill you? I'd rather cut off my hands first, than do something atrocious like that! Jim, you're my best friend. I can't kill you."  
  
"Don't you think that's what I said about Gary?" Kirk's voice was rising, and was taking on an odd accent of hysteria. "Don't you think I said that before Gary almost killed us all? Before he became invincible? BEFORE HE BECAME A GOD?!"  
  
McCoy couldn't let his friend stand there and scream insanely for very long. Before Kirk could react, McCoy grabbed a hypospray filled with sedative and jabbed it into the captain's shoulder. Kirk stiffened at the hiss, and McCoy went flying as through a giant hand had grabbed hold of him and thrown him across the room.  
  
He sat crumpled in the corner, unable to move, as Kirk advanced with murder in his eyes. Eyes that were gleaming a metallic silver! 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
McCoy sat in the corner, paralyzed completely, as Kirk stepped closer. His suddenly-silver eyes shone brilliantly, and McCoy realized he was trembling in fear of whatever his friend was becoming.  
  
About three feet away, Kirk hesitated, and his eyes flickered back to brown- green. He stumbled, and when he looked up at McCoy, his eyes held no trace of silver or malice.  
  
"Bones?" he whispered, and his eyes rolled back in his head as consciousness fled.  
  
McCoy was instantly released, and he managed to catch his friend's limp body as he fell. He stared at the unconscious Kirk for a moment before remembering the sedative he had managed to administer.  
  
McCoy decided not to call a nurse, and tried to lift Kirk onto a diagnostic bed. Almost instantly, he was assisted by a tall, dark figure who had appeared without fanfare. The two of them set Kirk down, and only once they were sure he was fully unconscious did either of them speak.  
  
"How'd you know, Spock?" McCoy's voice was quiet, as if he were afraid of waking Kirk.  
  
Spock gave him a vaguely amused look. "I could sense a disturbance gathering in Sickbay, even from several decks away, Doctor. I could also sense your immobilization. Had the sedative not taken effect at that moment, I would have rendered him unconscious." But Spock appeared to be shaken. Disturbed.  
  
McCoy watched him stare at Kirk in silence for several moments. "What is it, Spock? You look troubled."  
  
Spock flinched, ashamed that he was read so well. "I am....concerned. The captain was deeply disturbed by an event similar to this one several years past. I am not certain how he will react to this situation again, now that it is happening to him instead of his friend."  
  
McCoy frowned, and recalled the conversation he'd had with Kirk right before the anger appeared. "He was yelling something about someone named Gary, and how they were so similar." He watched Spock for any reaction to that, and was rewarded when Spock shifted his stance slightly. "Who was he? Who was Gary?"  
  
"Lieutenant-Commander Gary Mitchell," Spock replied. "Several years ago, he was serving aboard the Enterprise as navigator. He was one of the captain's closest friends. On a mission to the galactic barrier, Mitchell and several others were struck by an energy beam. The others died. Mitchell, however, gained extraordinary powers." He looked over at Kirk and lightly touched the younger man's arm. "His eyes had become silver."  
  
McCoy's eyes went wide. "So that's what he was so worried about?"  
  
Spock hesitated. "Not...precisely. Gary Mitchell began to show off his powers with ease, taking risks and endangering people. He had begun to think of himself as a god." He refused to meet McCoy's stunned gaze. "I convinced the captain to take him to Delta Vega with the intent to maroon him there. After an attack that rendered the entire landing party unconscious, the captain pursued Mitchell and was finally forced to kill him. His best friend, dead by his own hand." Spock's dark eyes were haunted, unseeing. "The captain beamed up, horribly beaten. He was taken to Sickbay and kept there for several days. Once released, he was still not himself. At the time I assumed it was because of his injuries, but I understand the psychological aspect now."  
  
McCoy looked down at his friend, who was dead to the world. "He's carried that trauma all these years." It wasn't a question.  
  
"Yes."  
  
They both stood in silence for a few minutes, watching the sleeping Kirk. Finally McCoy sighed, and turned to Spock. "Well, I don't suppose I could convince you to get some rest in your quarters..."  
  
"The prospect is quite unlikely."  
  
"I knew you'd say that. I assume you'll be staying here for a while?"  
  
"Affirmative."  
  
McCoy nodded. "Well, at least pull up a chair. He's not going anywhere for a while." He started to walk across the room. "I'll be in my office, going over the results of my tests on him. Call me when he shows any signs of regaining consciousness."  
  
Before he went into the office, he glanced over his shoulder. Spock was still standing at Kirk's bedside, and showed no signs of moving, even to sit down in the chair near the wall.  
  
McCoy sighed in resignation, and the door closed behind him.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
The first sensation Kirk encountered upon regaining awareness was the overwhelming psychic presence of Spock. The dark spectre that was Spock loomed at his side, and Kirk slowly became aware of the Vulcan's hand resting lightly on his arm.  
  
*jim?*  
  
*?* Kirk's mind was too out of it to form words.  
  
*are you alright?*  
  
*...*  
  
Kirk ran a mental diagnostic check. No pain; that was good. No discomfort. His muscles responded sluggishly when he tensed them, and his eyes refused to open. He felt as though he was drowning in syrup. He conveyed this sensation to Spock, and the Vulcan's concern was evident.  
  
*you are under sedation,* Spock explained. *you were becoming violent, and the doctor was in danger.*  
  
*!*  
  
*do you not remember?*  
  
The images were beginning to return, and Kirk shuddered inwardly. He had come *that* close...  
  
*jim, i apologize for the intrusion. i will withdraw and summon the doctor.*  
  
Kirk sent back an exhausted affirmation, and Spock's mental emanations reduced somewhat. Kirk's hearing was beginning to return, and he could hear the soft sound of Spock's boots on the Sickbay floor. Low voices spoke from the darkness, and Kirk recognized the catlike voice of Spock and the gruff tones of McCoy.  
  
Kirk struggled to open his eyes, and was rewarded with stabbing pain as beams of light shone right in his eyes. He groaned, and sluggishly rolled over onto his side.  
  
Almost instantly, the two presences were at his side. Kirk could sense their concern, and that scared him, increasing his pain. He began to tremble slightly.  
  
"Computer, reduce lights by sixty percent," McCoy ordered, and the lights dimmed. And then he spoke to Kirk, his voice soft and caring. "Hey, Jim. You're okay."  
  
Instead of being reassured, Kirk began to tremble even more. "Liar," he whispered.  
  
He finally opened his eyes. McCoy and Spock were standing over him, looking concerned. When he lifted his head, their expressions changed to relief.  
  
And abruptly, he remembered. "Bones! My eyes...the color..."  
  
As if he had expected that, McCoy handed him a small mirror. Kirk took it hesitantly, and looking at his reflection. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until it came out in a whoosh. His eyes were hazel.  
  
"Thank goodness." He handed the mirror back to McCoy. "How long have I been unconscious?"  
  
"A few hours," McCoy answered. "How do you feel?"  
  
Kirk considered that. "Very tired. Exhausted, even."  
  
"What about your powers?"  
  
Kirk tensed slightly, and then began reaching out with his powers. He inhaled sharply at the increased sensation of hundreds of minds, interweaving, brushing against his mind, chaotic...Kirk slammed down a barrier, blocking all those minds from touching his. He dimly realized that he was trembling again, more violently than before.  
  
He slowly became aware of Spock's concerned voice, and someone touching his shoulders. "Jim...it's all right. The contact is no more. Please, Jim."  
  
Kirk eyes slowly focused on Spock, and the strong Vulcan hands holding him still. "Spock?" he breathed cautiously. "What...what was that?" His head was throbbing mercilessly.  
  
"You subconsciously reached out and touched all the minds on board," Spock explained. "Your mental patterns are not accustomed to such contact, thus pain."  
  
"I...I've never felt anything like it before..." Abruptly, the world tilted sideways and began to go dark. Kirk swayed, and Spock caught him.  
  
"All right, you two, that's enough." McCoy was at his side, easing him back into the biobed. "Don't overdo it, Jim. I'm keeping you here under observation for a while, until that power of yours dims down." A hiss of a hypo accompanied his words, and Kirk slowly slid into oblivion.  
  
~~~~~~~  
  
When Kirk awoke again, it was abrupt and painless. He immediately opened his eyes and sat up, slightly disoriented. He looked around for McCoy and Spock. Surely they hadn't left him there...  
  
He frowned, thinking of one way to find out where they were. He remembered pain from the last time he tried something similar, but surely a more specific search would have a different result. Wouldn't it?  
  
Kirk closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated. Almost instantly, contact was achieved. No pain.  
  
*spock?*  
  
*jim! you are awake.*  
  
*obviously.* Kirk's mind-voice was amused. *where are you?*  
  
*i am in my quarters. our good doctor has just departed in order to return to sickbay and check on you.*  
  
*well, i'm up.*  
  
*as you said, that is obvious.* There was a slight ripple of amusement on the Vulcan's part. *are you alright?*  
  
*i think so. no pain this time, and i'm not tired anymore.*  
  
*that is good, i believe.*  
  
*how long was i out this time?*  
  
*three point four nine hours.*  
  
*always the precise one, aren't you?*  
  
*affirmative.*  
  
Kirk swung his legs over the side of the biobed, mentally switching off the motion alarm that would signal his departure. He transferred himself to the floor, and stood up a little shakily. He felt slightly weak, but that was all. No pain, no dizziness. He felt...almost normal.  
  
*jim, what are you doing?* Spock sounded concerned.  
  
*nothing,* Kirk lied. He rummaged around in a drawer, finding and taking out the small mirror that McCoy had let him use earlier. He looked at his reflection, noting the solid brown-green color in his eyes. Good. No change.  
  
*jim, i do not believe you should be out of bed,* Spock said, sounding concerned.  
  
*i'll be fine. trust me.*  
  
*doctor mccoy will be harder to convince than i am*  
  
As if on cue, the doors swooshed open. Kirk flinched and nearly dropped the mirror. Catching it just in time, he dropped it into the drawer and slammed it shut.  
  
McCoy entered the room, stopped in his tracks, and did a double-take. "What in hell are you doing out of bed?!"  
  
Kirk was guilty, and bravely trying to hide it. "Uhhh...I woke up a few minutes ago. I felt fine, so-"  
  
"So you thought you'd release yourself from Sickbay," McCoy interrupted.  
  
"Something like that."  
  
The two stared across McCoy's desk at each other for a minute. McCoy finally broke the silence. "Jim, we both know that you are *not* fine. Get back in that bed."  
  
"Bones, I told you, I'm okay. I don't need-"  
  
"Who's the doctor around here?" McCoy was beginning to sound angry. "Get back in that bed, dammit, or I'll sedate you again and tie you to it!"  
  
"What good will it do to make me lie down?" Kirk challenged. "It'll be the same whether I'm standing or not. Why does it matter?"  
  
McCoy scowled at him. "I don't want you going psychotic on me and trying to blow something up. You need to be watched, *Captain,* so don't be giving me any off that bullcrap. You're staying here until that kironide power goes away, so get used to it."  
  
Kirk glared at him, but he knew he had no strong arguement. He sighed, only then noticing that nearby objects were sliding away from him as if in a strong wind. He chastised himself for letting the power get so out of control, and began to build another mental barrier.  
  
McCoy came forward and took Kirk's arm in his hand and hauled the captain across Sickbay, all but throwing him on the bed. Kirk didn't put up much of a fight; he was busy putting up a shield to keep his powers in check.  
  
*jim?* Ah, so Spock was still psychically connected to him, was he?  
  
*what, spock?*  
  
*as doctor mccoy would undoubtably say if he were in my position, "i told you so."*  
  
Kirk completed his mental barrier. Not strong, but enough for the time being. *mister spock, i do believe that you have spent way too much time around our good doctor.*  
  
Spock seemed surprised. *of course, captain. contamination is inevitable.*  
  
Kirk chuckled to himself, and McCoy gave him an odd glance. Kirk shrugged and said, "Spock." McCoy immediately understood, and snorted in response. *you sound like you're feeling better, spock.*  
  
*indeed, captain. the kironide power has begun to disappear from my bloodstream, and my headache is diminishing with each passing hour. i shall soon be well enough to resume my duties.*  
  
*lucky you,* Kirk grumbled. *why aren't you confined to sickbay?*  
  
*i do not know, captain. it may be because you had a unique reaction to the kironide injection. your increasing power is rather alarming.*  
  
*to the both of us, mister spock.*  
  
*and doctor mccoy as well, sir.*  
  
Kirk's guilt reared its ugly head again as he recalled what he had almost done. He glanced at McCoy, who was busying himself by taking readings from the overhead diagnostic panel above Kirk. "What's the prognosis, Doctor?" Kirk half-joked.  
  
McCoy looked down at him and cocked an eyebrow in a way that reminded Kirk of Spock. "Well, the good news it that the kironide has finally slowed down its reproduction. I hope that's a good sign."  
  
Kirk nodded, knowing that McCoy wasn't telling him something. "What's the bad news?"  
  
McCoy sighed explosively. "I can't stop its spread through your bloodstream, and I can't get it out of you. And according to this panel, the kironide is playing havoc with your guts. Heart rate nearly double the norm, metabolism racing, body temperature elevated to nearly 102 Farenheit..." He shook his head. "Looks almost like the flu, but I'm not going to pass judgement. You feeling all right?"  
  
Kirk opened his mouth to reply, but McCoy cut him off. "Never mind. You'd tell me you were fine even if you were dyin' of a heart attack or something." McCoy smacked his hand against the side of the bed. "Damn! I can't tell you anything with just a diagnostic panel. If only I could use my scanners on you..."  
  
Kirk grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that."  
  
McCoy snorted. "Hell, it's not your fault. It's that damned kironide. I almost wish I'd never had to do that to you..."  
  
"Bones, it was my idea. Don't go beating yourself up over it. It was my suggestion, my order that made you give Spock and I the kironide shots. If it was anyone's fault, it's mine."  
  
"Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor. I had the authority to refuse the order on medical grounds."  
  
"You had no idea the kironide would have this effect. It's not your fault."  
  
"And you did know? Jim, you didn't know this would remind you so much of Gary-" McCoy bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that.  
  
Kirk looked up sharply, shaken. "What? Who told you about that?"  
  
McCoy winced. "Spock did. He told me *everything,* Jim."  
  
Kirk's shoulders slumped in sudden exhaustion, and he turned on his side. "Gary..."  
  
McCoy could tell that the young captain wanted to be left alone, so he quietly slipped out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Kirk released a whirlwind of grief and anger all at once. The kironide power channeled his emotions into physical action, and all the delicate instruments near him went flying into walls and floors.  
  
Kirk was in the middle of it all, eyes tightly closed, fists clenched. His eyes snapped open, and for a moment the irises of his eyes were pure, cold silver... 


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**  
McCoy walked into Sickbay and stopped dead in his tracks. His jaw dropped in astonishment. "What the HELL?"

Sickbay was a disaster area. All the delicate equipment was smashed and lying in pieces near the walls. The walls themselves were dented and scorched, as if burning debris had slammed into them. Kirk was still lying on the biobed on his side, unmoving. His back was turned toward McCoy, so the doctor couldn't see if he was awake or not.

McCoy slowly walked over to the biobed and glanced up at the monitor, noting with satisfaction that the level of kironide had finally stopped increasing. However, the negitive signs had become more obvious. Kirk's skin was bright pink with fever, and he was sweating heavily. Now close to his friend, McCoy could hear the irregular, rasping breaths that signaled a respiratory infection. 

McCoy reached out to touch Kirk lightly on the arm, then drew back as he felt the burning heat rising like waves from Kirk's body. He was abruptly reminded of the hallucinating Parmen, hurting people and creating a whirlwind of dangerous objects in his delirium. After a moment's consideration, he decided to leave Kirk alone. In his condition, there was no telling what he might do. 

~~~~~~~

Kirk was lost in the darkness, drowning in a red sea of pain and fire. He floundered helplessly, struggling wildly to escape from this hellish place. He was alone. 

Alone. 

ALONE... 

"NO!" he screamed, and the shattering echo reached out to the farthest reaches of the sea of pain. Not a soul answered him. "Bones! Spock! Someone, help me!" 

A feather-light touch, like the brush of snowflakes against his skin, came from the dark waters. "Jim, you are not alone. Listen to me, Jim. You must get well. You must. You are not alone." 

Kirk thrashed, trying to locate the source of the voice. "Where are you? Can't find you...don't leave me! Please!" His voice was that of a lost child, crying out in the dark, alone. 

"I am here, Jim. You must be calm, I am here. I will not leave you." A cool hand rested on his brow, soothing the pain there. "Rest, Jim. I will be here, always." 

~~~~~~~

Spock watched his captain move restlessly, deep in fever and delirium. He held one of Kirk's hands, transmitting coolness and a feeling of safety to his friend. He had been sitting at Kirk's bedside for exactly two point three six hours, witness to Kirk's rising fever. He had attempted to use Vulcan mind techniques to control the temperature, but Kirk was resisting. 

McCoy stood at his shoulder. "Any luck?" the weary doctor asked. 

Spock shook his head slightly. "He has rejected the healing trance each time I have attempted to induce it. He is lost, Doctor McCoy. Lost and alone. He does not understand." He was silent for a few minutes, watching Kirk sleep. "Have you determined what is wrong with him?" 

McCoy sighed explosively. "No, dammit. He's just sick, for no reason at all. Can you sense anything helpful from him?" 

Spock closed his eyes and concentrated for a moment, squeezing Kirk's hand. Then he slowly shook his head. "I cannot get through to him. He hears, but he does not understand." 

The situation remained unchanged for hours. Spock kept his vigil at Kirk's side, and McCoy went over the results of his tests again and again. No change. No answers. 

~~~~~~~

Kirk awoke in darkness, disoriented and confused. A dull pounding filled the air, and a small red light kept flashing. Something was holding his arm immobile, and for a moment he struggled to get free. 

His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he almost sighed in relief. The noise and the light were the heartbeat monitor of the biobed. The restraint on his arm was Spock's hand, and as Kirk looked over he saw the Vulcan in a chair next to the bed. His friend held Kirk's hand in an iron grip, while the other arm was being used as a pillow at the edge of the biobed. Deep, even breathing indicated that the Vulcan was fast asleep, and Kirk was very careful not to move any more and wake him up. 

Kirk raised his head slightly and looked around. Sickbay was dark, with only a dim light coming from McCoy's office. A slight rumbling came from the room, and Kirk almost laughed out loud as he recognized the noise as the doctor's snores. So Spock wasn't the only one who was worried about him, eh? _They really need to learn what a bed is for, _Kirk thought, amused. 

Having evaluated his friends, he turned his attention to his own physical condition. By squinting upwards, he could just barely make out the readings on the overhead diagnostic panel. Temperature slightly higher than normal, pulse a bit erratic, but that was all. Frowning, he replayed his most recent memories. _Hmm. What kind of gravity whip am I riding, here? Perfectly fine one moment, feverish the next...damn. I hate this._

Kirk sighed and stared at the ceiling, listening to his heartbeat and the soft sound of Vulcan breathing. He wasn't tired, but then again it wasn't daytime either. He knew he should be sleeping, but he'd been out all day and wasn't tired at all. Besides, he hadn't been in contact with the bridge for quite a while. 

The bridge...Kirk looked down at Spock's hand again. There was no way he could get that Vulcan to let go without waking him, and Kirk wasn't about to deny his friend much-needed rest. He looked across the room at the nearest wall comm unit, nearly four meters away. _Dammit. I can't get to that without getting up, and then I'd either wake up Spock with my movement or I'd wake up both Spock and Bones when those medical monitors start wailing. _

And then he had a sudden revelation. _James Tiberious, you can be so STUPID at times,_ he thought to himself. Closing his eyes to aid in concentration, he cautiously opened his mental barriers again. 

This time, no chaotic whirlwind of minds greeted him. Many of the sensations were drowsy and indistinct, indicating sleep or near-sleep. But up near the bridge, the night shift was awake and at their posts. 

Kirk's consciousness flew up to the bridge like a leaf in the wind, scattering across the deck. He picked up the mental patterns of Arex, sitting in the command chair. But Arex was not the one he was looking for. 

Kirk focused on the starboard side of the bridge, homing in on the felinoid signature of M'ress, the night shift communications officer. The Caitian woman was bored. Well, time to give her something to do. 

Kirk focused on projecting his voice through the speaker. "Kirk to bridge," he said with mind-voice. 

M'ress started slightly, and her tail twitched. She delicately tapped a button with one claw. "Brrrridge," she purred. "M'rrrress here. What can I do forrrr you, Captain?" 

"Just a status report, please." 

"Cerrrrtainly, Captain," M'ress mewled. "The ship is en rrrroute to Starrrrbase Twenty, ETA thrrrree days. Starrrrfleet Command sent a message forrrr you earrrrlier, but they werrrre informed that you werrrre unavailable. Admirrrral Fitzpatrrrrick wishes to speak with you at yourrrr earrrrliest convenience." 

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Is there anything else?" 

"No, sirrrr." 

"Very well, carry on. Kirk out." 

Kirk withdrew his psychic touch, feeling a bit nervous about what he had done. This psycho-kinetic power was getting too easy to wield. It was almost second nature, now. 

"Captain." The low, quiet voice startled him as it came abruptly from the darkness. 

Kirk looked over and saw Spock, silently watching him. "How long have you been awake?" Kirk asked, voice hushed. 

"Approximately fifteen seconds, Captain." Spock looked concerned. "How are you feeling?" 

Kirk threw him an annoyed glance. "You know damn well how I'm feeling. What time is it?" 

"It is 0428 hours. Doctor McCoy and I have been concerned for you. The good doctor did not believe that you would recover from your illness so quickly, nor did he expect you to regain consciousness within this timeframe." 

"Sorry to disappoint him." Kirk slowly sat up, strangely uneasy. There was a dull ache deep inside his stomach, and he decided not to stand up. He nodded his head in the direction of McCoy's office, where the snoring got even louder, if anything. "He's been there all night?" 

"Affirmative. Doctor McCoy was loath to leave you in case your condition worsened. I must confess, I felt the same way." 

Kirk couldn't resist. "Isn't concern a human emotion, Mister Spock?" 

"It is indeed, Captain," Spock replied, completely serious. "It is one of many emotions that you have brought to me. Captain...Jim. Please try to understand. During these past two years on this vessel, I have felt concern and fear for you as you recklessly throw yourself in front of danger at every opportunity. On Platonius, your decision to induce psycho-kinesis was alarming, and your escalation of power was equally frightening. I fear that one day, your affinity to injury will cause an untimely death." 

Kirk was startled by his friend's words. Could Spock truly have felt this way all these years and not told anyone? He gave Spock's hand a squeeze. "Don't worry, Spock. I'm still here. I'm fine." 

"Jim...that will not always be so." 

Both of them were silent for a long time. The darkened room reflected their moods; dark, brooding, and filled with fear. 

An eerie silver glow began to settle around Kirk, and he gasped involuntarily as the glinting mist wrapped around his arm. "Spock..." 

Spock's eyes were immediately riveted on the silver aura. He watched it shimmer and drift around Kirk's arm, spreading across his chest and wrapping around his other arm. Kirk twitched as it moved, watching it with eyes filled with fear. 

The silver cloud abruptly halted, and quickly gathered around Kirk's head. It swirled around like a tornado for a few moments, then abruptly shattered into billions of pieces and faded away. 

And Kirk screamed. 


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**  
Doctor McCoy was thrown out of his deep sleep with a jolt. He sat up too quickly and conked his head on the desk comm, causing an explosion of curses to pour from his lips. But all was forgotten as the sound that had awakened him repeated: a blood-freezing banshee wail of agony, coming from the recovery room.

All thoughts of sleep gone, he dashed for the next room over at a dead sprint. His boots skidded on the carpet as he screeched to a halt in the door of the recovery room. And just in time: a cold, savage, violent silver explosion rocketed past him at warp speed, swiftly seeking escape through the solid walls. He instinctively covered his head with his arms as the raging mist blew past, harmlessly vanishing through the bulkhead.

The scream cut off abruptly. McCoy recovered his scattered wits and looked up. Spock was on his feet, holding Kirk down at the shoulders. The captain was trembling violently, thrashing wildly on the biobed. McCoy immediately recognized it as a seizure of some sort, and ran to get his hypo.

McCoy grabbed the hypospray and snapped a vial of anticonvulsant onto the end. He ran back to Kirk's side, ready to inject ten cc's into him.

Kirk unexpectedly threw off Spock's restraining arms and staggered to his feet, then promptly fell onto the floor, spasming uncontrollably. His boot crashed into McCoy's leg and the doctor felt something snap. Crying out in torment, the doctor stumbled backwards and dropped the hypo, clutching at his leg in agony.

Spock concentrated, and for a moment his kironide power was restored. The hypo floated over to Kirk's shoulder and released the medication into his bloodstream. The tremors ceased, and Spock released his captain and went to McCoy's side.

"Damn kironide, damn those Platonians straight to Hell!" McCoy was ranting, trying to mask the pain in his voice. "He broke my leg!"

Nurse Chapel came in, alerted by the commotion. She immediately took in the sight of Kirk lying silently on the floor, McCoy half-sitting nearby holding his leg, and Spock looking simultaneously concerned and bewildered.

Chapel sighed. "Oh dear. Not AGAIN..."

~~~~~~~~

Five hours later, Kirk woke up. For a moment he just stared up at the ceiling, feeling too miserable to even move. His head ached, his eyes hurt, and he was fairly nauseous. He shut his eyes and breathed deeply, fighting back against the pain and discomfort. It eased slowly, and once he had beaten it back to manageable levels, he opened his eyes again and looked around.

"It's about damn time you woke up," McCoy grumbled from the biobed across the room. The doctor was sitting up, his left leg under a bone knitter, and looking quite ticked-off.

Kirk managed to look somewhat amused. "What happened to you?"

"YOU happened to me, Jim-boy."

Kirk frowned uncertainly. Was it possible that he had hurt McCoy? If so, why didn't he remember it? He flinched away from McCoy's gaze, choosing to stare at the wall rather than look into those piercing, accusing blue eyes.

McCoy noted Kirk's unease, and realized that his joke had not had the desired effect. "It's alright, Jim. You didn't do it on purpose. I don't blame you."

"Sure." Kirk's reply was sarcastic, and he still was avoiding looking at McCoy. Now it was the doctor's turn to frown in puzzlement.

"What's up with you?"

Kirk shrugged, as if he didn't care. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know."

The answer was so depressed, so...un-Kirk-like...that McCoy's jaw actually dropped for a few seconds. "Are you feeling okay?" he asked at last. Kirk shot him an are-you-crazy look and then went back to staring at the wall.

McCoy decided that the direct approach was not going to work. So, he switched tactics. "The kironide's gone, you know."

Kirk nodded slightly, wincing. "I know." His tone was flat, mechanical, and uncaring. It was as if the dynamic starship captain had transformed into a complete stranger. "I can't feel anyone else. It's all gone." He shuddered, as if the very thought of being alone in his own mind was intensely frightening.

McCoy stared at Kirk in incomprehension, and finally shrugged. _Maybe he just needs to adjust to being normal again,_ the doctor said to himself. _After all, he's become used to that psycho-kinetic power..._

McCoy blinked as a sudden thought entered his mind. _Wait a minute...there was something about kironide that they taught me back in Med School at the Academy...but what was it? Ah well, it'll come to me eventually._

Turning off the bone-knitting laser, McCoy ran a scanner over his leg and saw that it was fully healed. With one last look at Kirk, he slipped off the biobed and left the room.

Behind him, Kirk sighed and shut his eyes, ignoring an intense feeling of dread and foreboding. It wasn't just a case of reorientation that he needed. No, it was something much worse...

Opening his eyes again, Kirk carefully sat up and got off the biobed. With a quick glance around the otherwise empty Sickbay, and a glance at the chronometer, he straightened his shirt and strode off into the corridor.

~~~~~~~

The gym was empty, seeing as it was either very early or very late, depending on your duty shift. Kirk selected his favorite corner and put up the opaque privacy screens around his area, locking them in place so that nothing short of a Red Alert could open them from the outside.

Kirk moved to the center of the room, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He focused all his thoughts inward as Spock had taught him, visualizing the Vulcan desert. He was like the wind, he was like the sand. He was lighter than the air, he was faster than a striking le-matya. Unwavering, Kirk visualized an opponent in front of him and began to circle. 


	5. Chapter Five

Author's Notes: Well it's about time Fanfiction.net decided to cooperate! *snorts* In any case, here's the next, long-overdue chapter, written with the help of an Australian friend of mine. Thanks Damian! *waves*

  
  
**Chapter Five**  
Kirk was in the middle of an extremely complicated Vulcan maneuver when a wall of intense agony slammed into him full force. Unable to restrain a strangled scream, he sank to the floor, holding his head in both hands and fighting to stay conscious.

After a few minutes, the pain eased down to a throbbing headache. Kirk stood up, and quickly closed his eyes as the room spun circles around him. After the dizziness abated, he opened his eyes again and looked around the room, confused. He didn't know where the pain had come from, but he DID know that it had ruined his practice session.

Feeling mildly annoyed and more than a little uneasy, he unlocked the privacy screens and glanced around the gym. No one else was there. _Good, _Kirk thought. _I don't know what I'd say if someone saw me, AWOL from Sickbay..._

He briefly considered returning to aforementioned Sickbay, but predictably shied away from the idea. Taking one last look around the gym, Kirk headed for his quarters.

Unbeknownst to the young captain, a deadly predator was lurking and preparing to kill.

~~~~~~~~

McCoy walked into Sickbay, and immediately looked over at the biobed where Kirk was supposed to be.

No captain.

The doctor began cursing up a storm, and practically ran over to his desk. He turned on the computer interface and requested the location of one Captain James T. Kirk.

"Captain Kirk is on Deck Five," the computer replied.

McCoy ran out of the room without even bothering to switch off the terminal. He snagged the nearest turbolift and entered his destination as Deck Five.

The doors opened a minute later, and McCoy stormed off towards the captain's quarters. When he arrived, the door was shut and locked.

McCoy pressed the intercom. "Jim, it's me."

There was a long pause, and just when McCoy was considering a medical override, the door swished open. He walked in to find Kirk at his desk, putting a data tape in the slot next to his computer terminal. He didn't even glance up. "Good morning, Bones."

"What the hell are you doing out of Sickbay? I didn't release you!"

This time, Kirk did look up. "I don't need to be in there and you know it. The kironide's gone, you said it yourself. I'm perfectly fine."

McCoy's eyes scanned over his friend. Kirk seemed a bit tired, and a shade paler than he should have been, but that was all that the doctor could see wrong. He snorted. "Yeah. Sure. Come on, Jim. I at least need to run a physical on you before officially releasing you to duty, and you're not going back to the bridge until I do. So you might as well come along quietly before I have to knock you out again."

Kirk stared at him in silence for a moment. "How about in a few hours?" he suggested. "I was actually planning on catching up on my sleep..."

McCoy looked at him as if he'd just started speaking the Klingon language. But he didn't object. "Fine. I'll be back for you in five hours. You'd better be up by then, or I swear I'll dump a bucket of ice-cold water on you."

Kirk nodded. "All right. Now, out with you."

McCoy supressed a smile at the odd response, and walked toward the door. "Fine. I know where I'm not wanted." His voice carried just the right amount of teasing, and he expected another witty reply from Kirk.

But none was forthcoming. Taking one last look at Kirk, who was making his way toward the sleeping area, McCoy sighed and stepped out into the corridor, letting the door shut behind him.

~~~~~~~~

As soon as McCoy was gone, Kirk finally stopped pretending he was fine and allowed the signs of pain to show on his face. He uttered a low moan as he collapsed across the narrow bed, hands wrapped around his head as if it could get rid of the agony. It felt like there was a six-foot spike driven into his skull...

The pain inceased in intensity, and the captain blacked out.

~~~~~~~~

When Kirk came to, he felt distinctly nauseous. He had only a moment's warning before he was forced to rush to the 'fresher and empty the contents of his stomach. Pale and shaking, he turned on the tap and splashed some water on his face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror.

"What the hell's the matter with me?" he asked his reflection. Naturally, it didn't answer.

Walking back into the main living area of his cabin, he glanced at the chronometer. Nearly five hours had passed since McCoy left.

Kirk had just enough time to say "Uh-oh," before a buzz came from the door and McCoy's voice said, "Hey Jim, it's me. Can I come in?"

Kirk froze. _If McCoy sees me like this..._

He didn't want to let the doctor in, but there was really no avoiding it. Wiping the water off his face with his shirt sleeve, he hit the button on his desk to release the latch on the door. "Come in."

McCoy walked in, already talking. "Alright, I've got the diagnostic bed all set up and..." He trailed off as he saw Kirk, and frowned. "What the hell ran YOU over?"

"Nothing." The headache was back: a dull pounding in his temples, throbbing with the rhythm of Kirk's heartbeat. All he wanted was to go to sleep. _Hell, I'd settle for another blackout,_ Kirk thought darkly.

"Jim, you really don't look well. Come on down to Sickbay."

Kirk froze. _No! If he finds out I'm ill... _But there was no backing out. "All right."

~~~~~~~

McCoy looked at Kirk. The captain was extremely pale, trembling, and he kept wincing in pain. Something was definitely wrong with him. He didn't even look like he could make it down to Sickbay without help. In fact, he looked as if he hadn't used any of those five hours to do any sleeping.

_Then what in hell WAS he doing, anyway?_ McCoy wondered.

Putting that thought aside, he grabbed Kirk's upper arm. "Come on. You're getting a thorough exam, and I don't wanna hear any complaints."

To his surprise, Kirk didn't say anything and actually followed him. That in itself was enough to convince McCoy that Kirk was still not quite well.

Experience with the captain's temper made McCoy look both ways down the corridor to check if anyone was watching. Unfortunately, several people were nearby, chatting calmly as they walked through the corridor.

_Jim's going to hate me for this..._ McCoy thought grimly to himself, as he looked at the captain he supported, who seemed to be quite out of it. _Oh well. If he's not going to struggle about going to Sickbay, I doubt he'll be able to do much about this..._

The corridor, however, cleared pretty quickly. All it took was one look at the captain and they quickly strode off in the opposite direction. A few of the older, more experienced crewpersons gave a knowing nod to McCoy, and headed off to block the corridor from any further intruders.

McCoy looked at the captain, who hadn't even flinched at people seeing him in this condition - and suddenly realised that Kirk's eyes were closed, his head slumped to the side. He was all but unconscious, although his feet were still vaguely stumbling along with McCoy's on an unfortunately too-familiar route.

McCoy muttered an obscenity and kept going. This cooperation wouldn't last for very much longer.

~~~~~~~~

Spock exited the turbolift doors on Deck Five, and turned to go down the corridor to the captain's cabin. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of two ensigns who seemed to be guarding the hallway. The two men saw him and immediately stepped aside, knowing from experience that Spock was the only other person that the captain would allow to help him.

Spock walked around a bend in the corridor and almost tripped over McCoy. The doctor was sitting on the floor, unsuccessfully trying to keep Kirk moving down the hallway. The captain had finally fallen completely unconscious only a few moments before Spock arrived, from the looks of things.

"Doctor McCoy, what-"

"It's about damn time you hauled your pointed ears down here!" McCoy interrupted. "Help me get Jim down to Sickbay, now."

Spock didn't argue. He knelt down and gently lifted the captain. He stood up, the unconscious man cradled against his chest. Not for the first time, Spock was surprised at how frighteningly light he was.

They all but ran to the turbolift.

~~~~~~~~

The turbolift doors opened only a few meters away from Sickbay. Ignoring the curious, and then concerned expressions of nearby personnel, they hurried into through the Sickbay doors. Once inside, Spock carefully placed Kirk on a diagnostic bed, and McCoy grabbed a scanner.

He ran the scanner over Kirk, the bad feeling he'd been having getting worse. His fears were realized as the scanner was positioned over Kirk's head, and McCoy nearly dropped it in horror.

"No..."

Kirk was dying. 


	6. Chapter Six teaser and farewell

All right, I know it's been forever. Unfortunately, I'm stuck and don't think I'll ever get out of this quicksand. So I'm giving you a quick teaser and will probably have to leave it at that, unless someone else wants to continue on this line of thought for me. If you do, please e-mail me or review.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Chapter Six  
  
When Kirk awoke, the first thing he saw was McCoy's concerned face. "Hey, Jim. How do you feel?"  
  
"Awful."  
  
"I'm not surprised." McCoy hesitated for a brief moment. "Jim, when were you planning on telling us about this?" His only answer was a shrug.  
  
"So what's wrong with me now?"  
  
McCoy paused. He didn't know exactly what to say. How do you tell your best friend that he's dying and there's nothing you can do to stop it?  
  
"The kironide held off the symptoms, but it actually caused your...condition...in the first place. Jim...too much kironide in someone's blood has some pretty gruesome effects."  
  
"Cut to the chase, Bones."  
  
McCoy decided to say it before he changed his mind. "You have some form of cancer I've never seen before. I don't know how to stop it." [A/N: This is actually a fact I got from the StarFleet Medical Handbook that I borrowed from my science teacher. When overdosed with it, kironide causes an incurable form of cancer.]  
  
"I'm dying, then?" His voice was strangely calm.  
  
McCoy swallowed hard. "Yeah."  
  
"Lovely." Kirk's voice was almost without emotion, but there was a hint of sarcasm in his comment. He was in a dangerous mood, and McCoy didn't want to know what the captain would do if pushed.  
  
Making his excuses, McCoy left the room and went to work on a cure.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
And that's all, folks. Nothing more. I really don't know how to proceed from here, so this is all you're getting. My sincere apologies.  
  
Peace, love, and flourescent tribbles (Come on, you know you want one)  
  
-Ael L. Bolt 


End file.
